Sam did not think so. He sat reading it and listening to the loud, boisterous voices of the men in the barroom. The florid-faced man was explaining the details of a proposed town bond issue. Sam gathered that the water power in the river was to be developed.
“We want to make this a live town,” said the voice of Ed, earnestly.
The old man, leaning over and putting his hand beside his mouth, began whispering to Sam.
“I’ll bet there is a capitalist deal back of that power scheme,” he said.
He nodded his head up and down and smiled knowingly.
“If there is Ed will be in on it,” he added. “You can’t lose Ed. He’s a slick one.”
He took the pamphlet from Sam’s hand and put it in his pocket.
“I’m a socialist,” he explained, “but don’t say anything. Ed’s against ‘em.”
The men filed back into the room, each with a freshly-lighted cigar in his mouth, and the florid-faced man followed them and went out at the office door.
“Well, so long, boys,” he shouted heartily.